


I Am Always Yours

by korilove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Tether(s), F/M, Lifetime Fic, childhood!stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:32:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2219388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korilove/pseuds/korilove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles reflects on past memories of Lydia and how the tether brought them together. Spoilers up to s4, mentions of Allison's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Am Always Yours

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by a beautiful song called The End of All Things by Panic! At The Disco. It is slightly au as it goes before the show started and sometime after season 4. Everything that happened on the show is cannon here. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!
> 
> I do not own Teen Wolf or the characters.

He's always wanted her, ever since he can remember. He can feel the pull inside his chest like it was yesterday.

* * *

He remembers the sparkle he could see in her eyes even when they were little. That determination and superiority gleamed in her eyes when she stole his swing at the playground one day when they were 8. Her strawberry blonde curls were flying as she swung her legs back and forth. She had the widest smile on her face. He couldn't even be mad at her, her laugh was infectious and she beamed at him while she swung back and forth. They played together for the rest of the day, swings, sandbox and monkey bars until his mom had to drag him home.

He remembers when he lost his mom. He remembers understanding she was gone but not really feeling it. He remembers Scott coming over and just sitting on the end of his bed in silence. He remembers his dad slumping into a depression no one could shake him out of, and him not knowing what to say to comfort his son. The funeral that felt cold and distant and the only bright thing was that Lydia was there, her mom and dad had drug her along. She was like a beacon for him in the darkness of despair. Her hair was done up in an intricate braid and green eyes staring ahead, innocent and doe like. He watched her the entire time, it was much easier to focus on the pretty girl from his dreams instead of the thoughts of never seeing his mom again.

* * *

He remembers in middle school when she became part of the popular crowd. She started to dress and talk like them, her hair done up everyday. She started asking stupid questions in class that she used to know the answers to. He knew she was still getting straight A's, as he would peek at her mark from behind her red tresses every time a test came back. Almost perfect scores. It baffled him, she was so smart and she hid it from the world.

The allure of Lydia Martin had always been too much to bear. She was beautiful, smart, witty and confident. And she also had no idea he even existed.

Until Scott's bite had changed everything.

Making first line on the team had boosted Scott's status, and in turn, his. They were a packaged deal, you didn't get Scott McCall without Stiles Stilinski.

Then Scott and Allison started dating, and there was even more of an in to the popular crowd. His best friend was dating Lydia's best friend. How much more perfect could things get?

Apparently even more, when Allison set them up for the formal.

He was so nervous, he could feel his palms sweating. She looked even more gorgeous, if it were even possible. Her hair done perfectly as always, red lips perfecting her brilliant smile. She still had that mean exterior she had learned to use from years of being popular, but he could see right through it. He could always see the real her. And he tells her so.

He remembers the feel of her against him while they danced around the gym, he felt like he could hardly believe that it was real, like his heart would beat right out of his chest.

It beat even faster when he was running to try to save her from Peter on the lacrosse field.

He remembers Peter tearing into her and pleading for him not to kill her, for him to take his life instead of hers. His thoughts running a mile a minute and just hoping to god she'd come out alive, even when he had no choice to leave her there.

It felt like he was being forced away from a magnet, every fibre of his being needed him to stay right there. But he couldn't.

* * *

Then the next days of worrying, is she a werewolf or is she going to die? He really couldn't stand the thought of either option. And miraculously, the third impossible option came to pass.

Lydia was immune.

He remembers how the fear looked in her green eyes when she stepped out of the woods. Leaves all throughout her tangled hair and not a stitch of clothing on. It was a little distracting.

Okay,  _a lot_  distracting.

Her voice was scratchy and unused, she looked like she was on the brink of breaking down into tears. He kinda felt the same way. He remembers scrambling to give her a jacket, his awkwardness getting in the way once again.

His awkwardness always got in the way.

He remembers how she never fails amaze, like when they went ice skating. Of course she's great at that too. She's great at everything.

She even looks beautiful, no,  _gorgeous_  when she cries.

He remembers that first lacrosse game where he played. And she was in the stands. He remembers coming to his senses when he hears her shouting at him, and he scores. He remembers the feeling of adrenaline after scoring the final goal. And his eyes only search for her. She's half smiling and clapping, and she looks just as beautiful as always.

The same night she's standing in the doorway of his room, and she's coming to talk to him. Him, of all people. She's actually standing in his bedroom. She knows that he exists and she knows where he lives and she's here.

He remembers that he can't keep the words from falling out to try to stop her from going to save Jackson. His instinct is to keep her safe, he doesn't understand why she would risk it. Her pull is too strong and he can't help but want to protect her. He knows how death can cripple you and he doesn't want it to happen again.

But like always, his mouth gets him in trouble and she goes anyway.

He remembers how it felt hearing her pour her heart out to Jackson, like a knife in his chest. He remembers the look on her face when she thought he was dead. And then the joy when he wasn't.

Even then, the pull was too strong to contemplate the thought of not wanting her.

* * *

Then weird things started happening to her. The deer hitting her and Allison. The birds, her finding dead bodies.

It made him want to figure everything out even more. And she started helping. The pull that he had felt before intensified. She could hear things no one else could, knew information no one else would. And of course, he was the one who always wanted to figure out the mystery, and she knew parts of the puzzle.

And then his dad went missing. The panic attack hit out of no where. He'd already lost one parent, he couldn't bear the thought of losing another. He remembers the shock of feeling her lips pressed against his, the feeling that stopped his panic attack. Thoughts of  _ **oh my god she's kissing me**_  and ** _this is actually real_** running through his head.

He remembers wanting to feel it again, but doesn't know what to do other than to thank her. It's like she snapped his focus back, keeping him on the task at hand: saving his dad.

He remembers the tension in the air at the animal hospital as Deaton explained the ritual. Words of emotional connection and being pulled back from the brink of death.

He remembers Scott and Isaac must hear his heart stop when Deaton tells Lydia to go with him. The look on her face is confusion and realization all at the same time.

He remembers barely being able to breathe when he steps into the ice bath. He barely even feels the ice - instead Lydia's hands feel like they are burning permanent marks on his shoulders. He doesn't know if it's because Lydia is going to be the one to bring him back or if it's worrying about his dad, but he can't seem to think straight.

He remembers waking up afterwards; gasping and sputtering to catch his breath, opening his eyes and seeing her flawless face above him, her features relaxing in relief that he's okay.

* * *

He doesn't remember much of the time he was controlled by the nogitsune, or rather his brain chooses not to. He does remember dreams of Lydia in his bed. He remembers saving her from a bear trap. He remembers her in his room worried about getting him in trouble while he wrapped a strand of red yarn around her finger. He looked at her and the worry on her face and everything inside him wanted her to know that he believed her. And worst of all, he remembers her terrible cry when Allison was killed by the Oni.

He tries to shut out that memory but it's always there. He carries it with him. Another person he loved and lost. And the beautiful girl who's scream pierced his heart, like he could feel her grief along with his own.

* * *

He remembers his detour from Lydia when he and Malia get serious. He remembers caring for Malia and maybe even loving her, but in the back of his heart Lydia was still there. Just like she always had been.

And, as he's come to realize, she always will be.

* * *

He remembers the night he kissed her.

She was wearing a black skirt and a flowy flower printed shirt, her fiery hair pulled back out of her face in a high bun on the top of her head. They were bickering about her using her powers to find a way to defeat their at-the-time enemy, Kalan, who had threatened Scott and the rest of the pack. He'd managed to kidnap Liam, and Lydia wanted to use her incredibly perceptive ears to locate him. What was worse was that she insisted on doing it alone.

He remembers not understanding her desire to do it without any help. They'd always done their sleuthing together. And he tells her so.

"This isn't just about you!" He had said. "You can't go out there by yourself, Lydia, it's not safe!"

He remembers the tears in her eyes when she screamed back at him. "It's not safe for you!"

He remembers pausing for a moment in confusion, wracking his brain for an answer. Then asking her "Why?"

"He'll use you against me." She had barely whispered it, a look on her face that she had already revealed too much.

He remembers taking a step closer to her and looking into the complexity of her green eyes before asking: "How could he use me against you, Lyds?"

She sighed and closed her eyes before replying "He's a banshee, he knows how I feel about you!" She opened her eyes and tears he saw earlier were spilling over.

He remembers his heart swelling and breaking at the same time. The girl who he'd been in love with since that day on the playground was feeling the same way. And she was terrified to lose him. She wasn't willing to risk him.

But he was.

He remembers nearly running to her and grasping her tightly as he bent down to desperately press his lips to hers.

He remembers the disorienting feel of her, like he was floating as she kissed him back with the same enthusiasm. He remembers trying to get them back into his house without falling over.

He remembers the squeak she made when he pressed her up against the wall of the hallway. He remembers the sounds she made when he found the sweet spot under her collar bone. He remembers the way she looked in the barely there moonlight as he saw her,  _really_  saw her for the first time. He remembers the way she whispered his name as he kissed his way over her body, and the change in the way she said it when he made love to her.

He remembers feeling complete, like they were bound together by something other than the pack and the fact that he had always been in love with her. Something tethering them together, so tightly wound that they were never out of tune with the other from that night on.

* * *

He remembers trying to make long distance work while he was in the police academy. The training was gruelling on his body and being away from Lydia was crippling for his heart. He knew this was what he wanted but it didn't make it any easier.

He remembers her face when she picked him up from the airport when he graduated. She was beaming and happy tears were leaking out the corners of her gleaming green eyes. She kissed him as hard as that night in front of his house, and it took everything inside him to keep it pg (or pg-13) until they got back to their apartment.

* * *

He remembers feeling nervous as hell, a velvet box burning a hole in his pocket. His palms sweating and he recites his speech a hundred times over; in the mirror, in front of Scott and then Kira, in the car while driving to work.

He took her to the beach, at sunset. He remembers it was a little windy, red flyaway hairs from her updo were blowing across her face. They stood at the edge of the beach where it meets with the waves, watching the sun disappear under the horizon, his arm wrapped around her waist. He remembers thinking  ** _it's now or never._**

He remembers that the sand was damp as he knelt down on his right knee. He fumbled with the box in his right hand as he told her how much he loved her, and didn't want to ever lose her, and how he can't imagine a day or a life without her in it, and that he wants to spend it all with her.

He remembers the wide smile he elicits from her when he pulls the box from his pocket, and that she says yes before he can even properly ask her to marry him. He remembers trying to get it out but it's swallowed by her lips meeting his over and over as she says yes between each kiss.

He remembers the day they shared their bond with the rest of their pack and families. He remembers even though he can feel she's just as much in this as he is, he's incredibly nervous. He remembers Scott steadying him as they stood at the altar, watching Kira walk down the aisle, when his attention is brought to the back of the church.

Lydia was standing there with her beautiful strawberry blonde curls swooped to the right of her head, pinned there with a veil. Her eyes shone with eagerness and excitement. She was smiling her brilliant smile, the wide one she reserved just for him. The white dress clung to her in all the right places, making her look impossibly more beautiful than he'd ever seen her.

He remembers that when she reached him, he realized he'd been grinning like an idiot and he takes her hand, her smile impossibly widens and her eyes gleam. While they turned to face the altar he whispered to her; "Lyds you are so beautiful."

* * *

He remembers when he got home from the precinct one day and she's sitting on the porch waiting for him. She was wearing jeans and a purple sweater, her hair in a familiar top knot on her head. She was tapping her foot and resting her chin in her hands.

He remembers feeling confused, but plopped down wordlessly beside her.

He remembers the breath the lets out before whispering what are probably his favorite words; "Stiles, we're pregnant."

She looked back up at him and he's beaming at her. He remembers he picked her up and twirled her around on their doorstep, kissing every inch of her he can get at, while her infectious laugh sounded throughout the neighbourhood.

He remembers meeting their perfect little girl for the first time. They named her Alison Claudia Stilinski. She has Lydia's red hair and his deep brown eyes; the spitting image of Lydia. She grows up to be incredibly smart and beautiful, just like her mom.

He remembers family nights with Scott and Kira and their boy Andrew. The laughs and teasing Alison about whatever boy she liked at the time and reminiscing about old pack times.

Sometimes Derek and Cora would join them. When the others were in town their get togethers were always loud and a late night, usually ending in at least one drunk pack member saying they should never be apart again.

* * *

He remembers the day he loses her. Her curls had long since turned from the reddish blonde to grey, and the laugh lines from years spent with him are etched on her face. Her green eyes are just as complex as ever, the eyes that have seen past all of him, down to his very soul. She holds his hand as she locks eyes with him for what would be the last time. The last words she says to him are: "I love you, we will be together again. I promise Stiles."

He remembers his heart breaking as she faded away, their daughter clinging to him as she silently sobbed in his shirt.

* * *

He's roused from dreams of his memories by a familiar face. For a moment he has to remind himself that Lydia is gone, and the face looking back at him belongs to the life they had created together.

"Hey dad, what were you dreaming about?" Alison asks him, her brown eyes searching. She's inherited the same gift her mom had, she's usually intuitive to these types of things. He's surprised she has to ask.

"What I always dream about, sweetheart." He smiles at her. "Your mom."

A sad smile comes over her face and she scoots her chair closer to the hospital bed where he's laying. The battle with cancer he's fighting is slowly being lost. At least he has what the love of his life didn't, time.

"When did you know it was mom for you?" His daughter asks eagerly, wanting to know everything possible about her mom, her dad and their lives before she's just left with her own possible scenarios.

He smiles as he tells her the story of the playground, and everything that comes after that. He thinks to himself he wouldn't trade any moment of his life with Lydia Martin for anything in the world.


End file.
